I think you're likeable
by P.A Writes
Summary: The guy sat down beside her, putting back the package and taking the lighter from the grass. That wasn’t exactly as she had planned. She was sitting here alone.


_Maybe it's 'The Young Troubled' by Guesswhat that inspired me for this thing, or maybe it's the Luby romance, or a combination of those two. I'm not so sure. However, this is Luka, Abby in high school. One shot._

_I'm from outside the US, sorry for any mistakes._

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**I think you're likeable**

It wasn't that she didn't want to have any friends; she just didn't do any effort to get in touch with them anymore. Besides moments like these, during the breaks at school, she had no time to talk to them anyhow. Eric, Eric, Eric. Life was always about Eric, about getting him to school, about making him dinner, about reassuring him that mom would come back. And without Eric, she was alone.

She started smoking about a year ago, when some guy offered her one. She'd taken it, coughed at the first two drafts, and then began to enjoy all of it. The smell, the taste it left in her mouth, and of course the nicotine on it's self.

So that was her break. Behind the school building, in the May sun, leaning with her back against a tree, smoking. Smoking, ruining her lungs on the age of only seventeen. But she enjoyed it, and who the hell cared about her lungs anyway?

The wind was chilly, but she preferred it that way. She squeezed her eyes against the intense sun as she lit up a second cigarette and stretched her legs out. She closed her eyes, taking a long drag and breathed out slowly.

"Hi."

Startled by the voice her eyes flung open. She blinked against the sun and held her hand above her eyes, trying to get a clear view of the person in front of her.

Black hair, jeans, sweet smile.

"Hi," she just answered and leaned back against the tree again.

"Can I have one?"

"Sure." Having absolutely no idea who this boy was - and not really caring - she threw the package in his direction.

The guy sat down beside her, putting back the package and taking the lighter from the grass. That wasn't exactly as she had planned. She was sitting here alone. She turned to look at him. He was just staring over the grass and the streets that followed.

Whatever.

He took a drag and turned back to her. "What's your name?"

It was now that she noticed his voice, he had an accent. A thick accent.

"Abby. You?"

"Luka."

"That's not very American."

"It isn't."

"Oh."

She turned her head away from him and stared at her feet.

"You always put your shoes off here?" The Luka guy asked and nodded to her bare feet.

"Yeah."

He nodded and tapped the ash from his cigarette. "You think I'm rude?"

She shrugged and drew deeply from her smoke, buying time.

"Tree looked good, didn't know you were sitting behind it." He said apologizing.

"I always sit behind it."

"Well, I'm sorry… I'm new here."

"Oh." She didn't know if she was bitching, but she had no idea how to act otherwise.

"We moved from Croatia two weeks ago."

She raised her eyebrows and turned her head to him again. Croatia huh. "That's very new."

"Yeah."

"Good English then."

"My father taught me."

She nodded and pulled her bag closer to her to get her walk man. "Do you like Aerosmith?"

"I don't know."

"You should know," she answered with a small smile and handed him an earplug.

He shrugged and put it in his right ear. "Why do you sit here alone always?"

Always is before alone. She didn't say it, it wouldn't be fair. "Because I'm not likeable," she grinned somewhat sarcastic and put on the cd.

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "Don't really care."

He frowned at that and looked at her. "I'd think you're likeable."

"Yeah?" She asked, more meaning it as a joke.

"Yes, of course."

"You don't know me."

"Still."

"Still what?" Man of little words, just like her, she thought.

"Still, I think you're likeable."

Oh, that. "Hm."

"No, not _'hm'_," he repeated.

She grinned at his funny imitation. "You want to make new friends?" She asked.

"Sure, of course."

"Then you should go, they won't come here."

"I understand."

"I don't think you do."

"Aren't _you_ here?"

She let out another sarcastic laugh. She looked at him, he looked back. She offered him a smile. A small, but genuine, smile. "Europeans..." she sighed, shaking her head.

He laughed and put off her cd player. "Aerosmith you said?"

"Yeah."

"Don't you think it's a little depressing?"

"So is smoking."

"Why?"

"It's killing yourself without actually dying, right?"

"I don't see it that way. I enjoy the smell and taste."

"Not when you want to kiss someone." It was out before she realized.

"I wasn't going to kiss anyone, you?" He joked.

She blushed. "Of course not."

"So, if it's not for smell or taste for you, why _do_ you smoke?"

"Because it's bad, it's that simple." She knew she was lying.

He grinned and sprawled a little. After that he flicked his cigarette against the tree and pressed it out.

She didn't know why exactly, but she did the same thing with hers.

"Did you behaved bad enough?"

_Behave._ Maybe it was because he smiled so sweet after he had said it, or because the accent on it's self was charming, but she didn't mind.

She nodded slowly and looked him right in the eye. "And why do you smoke?"

His lips turned into a thin line. "It makes life a bit more bearable. Sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. And what's your _real_ reason? For smoking?"

She swallowed. He knew she'd lied the first time. She first hesitated, 'cause it was none of his business, but well, she wasn't going to have a clear answer anyway.

"It's just like... When I lose hope with things, that..." She stopped, not knowing how to go on. "It's just very addictive stuff." She smiled shyly and let out a long sigh as she turned her face towards him. "No, I really don't know why I smoke."

"Okay," he answered with a nod and gave her a small smile. She knew he wasn't completely satisfied with that answer, but at least he didn't ask any further.

The rest of the break was silent. They just sat there, staring at the grass in front of them. But he, the young European who couldn't believe that the girl besides him really was that timid, turned his head towards her, just a minute before the bell would ring, and touched her hand with his. She startled and was about to pull back, but when she looked at him she couldn't somehow. He smiled and gave her a soft squeeze.

"Please, don't ever lose hope, Abby. It's the only thing that gets you through everything. And I think…" he chuckled softly. "Well, I… I _know_, that you don't deserve to get lost."

She swallowed the lump in her throat away and when she was about to answer the bell rang. Luka let go and got up. She stayed where she was.

"You don't have a lesson?"

She shook her head and looked up to him, holding her hand above her eyes against the sun. "Don't feel like it."

He nodded. "Bye then." He turned around and headed towards the building.

She followed him with her eyes and mumbled, "class, not lesson." But she didn't care. Not about the accent, not about her mother, not about the rest of her family. And she knew she'd be thankful for his words for the rest of her life, and honestly hoped that they'd meet again sometime. And that hope would be fulfilled.

_**-fin-**_

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_Thank you so much for reading. Reviews are very much appreciated.__**  
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